


Secret

by Synful_Cocktail



Category: Avenged Sevenfold
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gore, I Don't Even Know, No Clue What To Tag This As
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-10 20:29:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4406444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synful_Cocktail/pseuds/Synful_Cocktail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We all carry these things, inside that no one else can see. They hold us down like anchors. They drown us out at sea."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secret

**Author's Note:**

> I should be admitted.
> 
> I don't endorse this in any way. Don't sue me.

They're the things that claw at the carefully put up walls, begging, pleading to be free, to rip their way through everything and expose the dirtiest laundry that even the most innocent person may seem to have. The skeletons in the closet dancing; rattling as they try to break free out of the hangers which they hang on. Everyone has something which they don't want let out, whether it's a secret recipe or it's some huge thing where they cheated the night before their marriage - whatever it is, everyone has a secret. Even the mothers who will swear that their 'homemade soup' is strictly from scratch, will refuse to let loose the little knowledge that it's from a year old can hidden in the depths of their pantry behind the spices.

Whether it is a childhood experience that is refused to be spilt due to the sheer trauma of walking into his or hers parent's bedroom to see them doing the nasty, or whether it is so outrageously hilarious that is unable to be said in-between the bouts of laughter... Or, it could be so scandalous, that the person who has held the secret, refuses to let loose one word to the humiliation that is sure to be felt. Secrets; everyone's got one.

Children who accidently spilt mommy's favourite nail-polish on the freshly laundered carpet, fathers who forgot that they took their two year old down to the grocer's with him, grandmothers who just now tell their daughter she's adopted... People are full of secrets. So full that surely, one more will bound to make them burst apart at the seams, but end up squeezing a few more in to be locked up tight, so tight that not even the couple who tell each other everything know.

Pages upon pages of black ink scrawled messily in the haste to get it off chests, just to have that dead weight lifted off of their shoulders without the secrets bubbling out over their lips that not even alcohol can expose. Usually secrets are exposed during a late night game of truth and dare which is played whilst getting blind makeovers.

Sometimes, secrets are kept close to one's heart and inside the spongy mass of grey matter situated in bony skulls. But, as they say; loose lips sink ships.

* * *

The crickets chirped noisily as the once clear-blue sky turned ashen grey. Angry looking clouds rolling in as the usual busy streets of Huntington Beach now became deserted. Leaves and discarded bits of rubbish billowed about in the wind, settling by the cobbled stone pathways which piece apart the pristine green lawns which lined the tar and bitumen roads. Picnic's under the trees in the park were cut short, the storm causing people to hurriedly pack up their belongings and scamper off to the shelter of their protective houses. Sea spray mixed in with the lingering aroma of rain, clinging to any exposed fabric of the people who are too reckless to find shelter.

Thunder rumbled through the city, ricocheting off the dark grey clouds and fading off into the distance; setting off the neighbourhood dogs, their barks masked by the roll of the thunder. Moments later, lightning crackled, illuminating the sky for seconds before disappearing. Again, thunder was heard once more before rain started to splatter the pavement in sparsely placed blotches; slowly getting heavier and heavier until it was pouring down, the drops landing on the windows and tin roofs, threatening to burst through.

Holed up in the Sanders' house, the members of Avenged Sevenfold were thankful that they all had decided to arrive an hour earlier than what was expected due to the promise of a continual flow of beer and bagged chips of all different flavours. In what was arguably the 'most important band meeting of the year', they found themselves instead playing in a tag-team game of Call of Duty: Black Ops with Matt and Brian on one team, and Jimmy and Johnny on the other.

Zacky being the only smart one, decided to sit out as brawn and brawnier - Matt and Brian - were on one team, and he knew what had happened last time he stupidly played against the dynamic duo. He ended up with seven stitches no thanks to a rather rough game of Monopoly. Yes, as it turned out, Brian got rather vicious after landing on Zacky's hotel at Mayfair; it turned the man off of board games forever.

Tilting his head back to get a mouthful out of his bottle of Heineken, Zacky's eyes glinted with amusement at watching his band-mates play the wretched game. The faces that Matt pulls and the curses which dribble out from Jimmy's mouth was enough to have anyone in hysterics.

Zacky just about fell out of the all-too-comfortable recliner due to the sheer fury in Brian's usually calm voice. "Johnny you little fucking shit! You can't do that! Cheater! Fucking scum-bag!" His finger shakily pointing at the accused, yet otherwise terrified man who had seemed to have found solace in hiding behind Jimmy's lanky body.

"What is this cheating that you speak of Haner? I did not see such a thing, so shut your damn mouth and quit whinging,” Jimmy hissed, his eyebrows furrowed together in concentration as he tried to direct his own avatar to kill off Matt’s. “Asshole buttface.”

With a look in his brown eyes, one that he only gets whilst in the midst of trying to win something, Brian turned to Zacky, his face red from the shock of what seemed like Johnny trying to give Matt a wedgie, as so kindly put. “Zacky… you didn’t… Johnny, he… you saw? He… cheated!” Brian questioned rather fast, too fast for anyone to understand properly, his anger impeding the ability of talking in actual sentences.

Zacky held up in hands in what was seen to be a surrender, moving off of the recliner and over in the far corner of the room, away from the lead who looked like he was about to rupture several blood vessels. Zacky was about to answer, but was saved by Matt’s girlfriend, Rachel and Johnny’s girlfriend, Bridget, walking down the staircase to the small basement which Matt had converted into his man-cave.

“Again, Matthew? Really, baby? How many times have you played this damn game, and honestly, weren’t you all here because of the band-meeting that was supposed to discuss this upcoming tour?” Rachel scolded, standing in-front of her boyfriend with her hands on her hips, trying to look intimidating but failing due to her lack in height and menace.

“Rach… you know I love you and all, but I’m just about… almost killed Jimmy. Y’know,” Matt mumbled, his voice soft but pleading. Never once in their three year relationship had he ever raised his voice towards her, nor had they gotten into a serious fight. Only little spats here and there. “And, you’re sorta blocking the screen, babe.” If anything was his Achilles Heel, it was Rachel.

Rolling her eyes, she just padded her way over to him and plopped down on his lap, her arms wrapping around his bulky frame as he continued to play away, pausing slightly to press a tender kiss to her temple, her fingers running through his hair.

“Bridget! Thank god you’re here!” Johnny just about sounded like a parched man who just saw water for the first time in a week. Leaping up, he clambered over Jimmy, standing on tangled limbs in his rush to get over to his girlfriend, hoping that a beautiful woman, such as herself, would be enough to distract Brian for a while.

Brian just rolled his eyes, “No offense, Johnny but your lovely lady isn’t enough for me to forget what you did, dumbass.” He ground out through gritted teeth, glaring at the shorter man who had wrapped his whole body around his girlfriend with the most sheepish look on his face. “Rachel on the other hand…” Brian murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

“Don’t finish that sentence, Brian,” Matt muttered, his hazel eyes narrowing dangerously into slits. Ever since Matt introduced Rachel to the rest of the band, Brian had been enamored in her, much to the displeasure of Matt. Brian insists it’s the extra push that he needs to finally propose to her.

Chuckling, Brian stood up and stretched out his arms wide, popping his joints out. Turning to Rach and Matt, he smirked that infamous smirk of his, grabbed Rachel’s hand and kissed it softly, causing her to blush. His arm jerked out to sock Matt in the bicep. “This was nice, definitely going to happen again sometime.”

With a yelp, Johnny jumped out of the way of Brian passing, making sure that he wasn’t in arm’s length of the still pissed off man. “I will get my revenge on you, short shit,” Brian laughed, a wink added on before he climbed the stairs two at a time.

Zacky groaned from where he was seated, his hands rubbing at his face sleepily, “As riveting as this was, I vote for us not to tag team again… Never realised how competitive we all get.” Shaking his head from side to side slowly, he smiled at everyone. “My bed and Laptop are waiting for me and my hand, sorry guys.” Slowly, each man and Bridget walked out, leaving Rach and Matt on their lonesome.

“We have three hours until your parents get here, wanna make the most of it?” Matt whispered huskily into Rachel’s ear, his teeth nipping on her earlobe, tugging lightly as his hands roamed over the curves of her body. The way that her hips pushed into Matt’s was the answer that he needed.

* * *

“Johnny, baby, what are you doing?” Bridget’s soft voice floated through the closed door, her usual calm voice had an undertone of worry in it. She had been tied up for ten minutes, rope bounded tightly around her wrists, constricting her movement entirely. The rope was cutting into her tender skin, every-time that she wanted to move just slightly, it would rub viciously.

“I’ll be there in a minute, just got to get some things,” Johnny called back, his voice seeming, distant, almost not there. Immediately, her panic rose higher, climbing up like a tendril of smoke. She didn’t know what was going on, considering that Johnny had never been the one for ‘spicing up the bedroom’ she was a little bit more than freaked out. Bridget couldn’t help but to feel exposed; the buttons on her blouse were fully undone and the shirt was pulled apart, exposing her pink and black lace bra, her skirt was hitched up to above her hips, exposing the matching underwear which covered her fully.

“Things? Johnny, what’s going on?” Bridget murmured, knowing that her voice would travel to where he was. This was much unlike the sweetheart that she started to date seven months ago, this man behind the closed door, was something else.

“We’ve all got secrets to keep,” Johnny sang as he walked through the door, in his left hand held a butcher’s knife and in the other was a knife sharpener. Bridget’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, her shocked expression masked the fear that had consumed her. Creeping suddenly up on her, it had engulfed her completely until all that was left was her whole body trembling with the fear that she was experiencing. “But it’s the ones that are hidden that are the worst.”

“J-Johnny… W-why do you have a knife in… in your hand,” Bridget asked quietly, almost afraid of the answer. She really didn’t want to know just what is going to happen next, nor did she want to know what the hell happened to her boyfriend.

He smirked slightly, the look contrasting against the current situation that he put them both in, “Need to know, baby… All will be revealed… soon,” He muttered, setting knife down on the bedside table next to the sharpener, the look in his eyes made no room for negotiation. Bridget could feel the perspiration dripping down her pale skin, travelling in drops down her skin, connecting as they trailed downwards; dipping into the curves of her body. Johnny’s lips curved up into a smirk, one that just about damn-near split his face into two, and the maniacal glint in his cold brown eyes, was enough for him to look like he belonged in an institution.

“But-”

“No buts, Bridget! Fuck, why can’t you just lie there, huh?” Johnny fumed, his voice rising gradually, “You always do this, ever since we started dating. You always have to question everything that I do. Just fucking stop it!”

Silenced by pure fear, Bridget could only just lie there as tremors ran through her body, causing her to quiver with fear. Her eyes wide and fearful, taking in just how her boyfriend looked. Usually his height would limit his ability, but not then, he looked as if he had grown overnight. He looked over at her, his eyes running up and down her body, “That’s much better, babe.” Johnny cooed, his voice had taken on the tone of someone who would be talking to a baby. Picking up the knife, Johnny ran the tip of his finger over the cool metal blade; he winced at the small cut that occurred due to the slight pressure that he had placed upon his finger.

Bridget’s eyebrows rose as high as her forehead would allow them, her pale brown eyes screaming sheer terror as he moved over to where she was laid across the neatly-made purple sheets. Once Johnny had reached her pale body, he squeezed on his finger-tip gently, his teeth biting down on the flesh of his lip as blood seeped up to the surface and spilt over. Without missing a beat, he smeared the bright red liquid crudely over her exposed stomach, shock was the entirety of her emotions as he continued to cut himself and rub the blood over her.

“J-Johnny, put down the k-knife,” She stuttered, her breath hitching uncomfortably in her lungs as he brought the tip of the blade to her stomach, humming an unknown tune to himself. The fingers to his other hand trailing over the soft mound of her breast, knowing exactly what the feeling would do to her; evident in the goose-bumps that had formed on her smooth skin. Hating the way that her body responded to his touch, Bridget tried to close her legs, but before she could get all the way, he pressed the knife down into her stomach, just slightly as a warning of sorts.

“Uh-uh, baby. Not so fast,” He murmured as he cut off her panties, “I want to see all of you.” And, with that he ran the knife down the band of her bra, across the straps, his teeth sinking down into his teeth as the material fell down, pooling in little piles on the mattress. As she jolted, the rope dug more firmly into her wrists, cutting through the softness of her skin, until finally blood dripped down her arms in rivulets, tainting her pale skin with streaks of dark red. A startled gasp fell from her lips at the look of hunger that adorned his expression; instead of the lust that had enamoured him once he first saw her, it had morphed into something more dangerous and more frightening than ever.

"Not a sound," Johnny hissed the moment she opened her mouth to scream. Johnny's hands ran in the opposite direction of the blood, the liquid had congealed and stuck to his fingers making it easier to gather up in his hands. "I wonder what you taste like, baby." He pondered out loud, his head tilted to the side, cold brown eyes flitting to where his girlfriend was trembling then back to the dried substance in his palms. He had them cupped, delicately bringing them up to his mouth.  
Bridget couldn't tear her eyes away from the horrific sight that was happening in front of her.

Johnny's tongue poked out to collect her blood, making sure that it was all on the wet muscle before he took it into his mouth. By no means was he a 'vampire' or even remotely anything of the sort. Just... highly fucked up. Much preferring the taste of human flesh than anything else. No one knows, except for the people that he had killed; and as people would say, We all got skeletons in our closet, dangling about, ready to jump out at someone given a moment's notice.

Johnny let out a groan at the metallic taste of her, much sweeter than anyone else that he had ever eaten before. Licking across the bottom of his lip, he moved up onto the bed properly and settled himself in between her legs. His hands running along the smooth flesh. "Since I am by no means selfish. I'll pleasure you before you reciprocate the gesture another way... got it?"

Bridget nodded mutely in response, she just stared at him. The tonality of his usual raspy voice had her curious as to exactly how she'd return the favour to him; she knew that he didn't mean for her to blow him. There was something else entirely that had her chilled to the bone just merely thinking about it.

Her legs opened further as Johnny's mouth placed open-mouthed kisses down her stomach, his tongue licking over the faint scratch that had shown up by his previous actions. As Bridget felt his hot breath on her skin, she couldn't help but to grow queasy. His actions causing her to become turned on, but the foreshadowing of his words had her wanting to kick him in the mouth and head repeatedly until he falls unconscious. Johnny's hands spread open her thighs obscenely, holding her knees down onto the duvet as his breath fanned over her core, his eyes gleaming at how much he knew that she wanted to be touched; to have his mouth on her.

"Patience, baby," He murmured at the soft moans and whines which were falling from her plump lips like they were second nature. Glancing up at the gorgeous girl, he briefly took a moment to rake his eyes over her form. They had been in love. But, Johnny's needs greatly overweighed his love for her; and he knew that tonight he'd be fine dining.

Closing his mouth around her clit, he let his tongue work her. Flicking the small bud in her mouth, knowing just how much pressure that was needed to reduce her to nothing but a writhing moaning hot mess. His fingers trailing along her thighs and along, he moaned around her now throbbing clit as he felt just how wet she was already. Pinching her slippery folds, he eased a stubby finger into her tight hole, clenching around the digit that was penetrating her, Bridget moaned her approval. He slowly moved it in and out of her, his tongue swirling around her clit as he shortly added a second. After moments of the slow pace that he had soon developed, he began to finger her faster, his short nails scraping along the walls of his lover as his teeth raked against the sensitive nub.

Bridget's head, hips and legs were all that was touching the mattress as her back arched right up. Her mouth spewing erotic moans as Johnny pleasured her in the most filthiest way he knew how. His fingers working at the balloon of nerves buried deep inside her, whereas the other hand was up at her chest, squeezing the ample amount of breast which she had. Johnny had always loved how whenever he'd cup at her boobs, they'd spill out over his hands, she'd always insist that she'd get a breast reduction, but Johnny managed to convince her otherwise every time.

That white-hot ball which had formed in the pit of her stomach threatened to escape. Her breathing had deepened, and her walls had clamped tightly against his fingers. With one last final curve of them, she let go. Her juices drenching his fingers and streaming out as her movements stilled altogether; her legs quivering as he continued to move his fingers, soaked to the very core he moved his head down, his tongue running along her slit, gathering up the remains of her orgasm. Bridget moved her hips up, begging for more but it was the glare that had her still completely.

Biting her lip, she let her eyes close for just a moment. But, it was the searing pain in her abdomen which had her try to scream - the only sound being made was a gurgling type sound - and to open her eyes again. She could feel the sharpness of the blade cutting into the soft skin of her belly and past the muscle. Blood seeped out of the large gash that he made and quickly flowed over onto the mattress, causing Johnny to moan in ecstasy at the sight of it.

Her breathing was soon marred by the nasty cut that adorned her throat, blood bubbling up and out of her mouth with every breath that she made. Coughing and spluttering she thrashed against the tight hold on her wrists, trying to escape; wanting nothing more than to get away from the man who she loved. Pain was all that could be felt now, hot tears streamed down her cheeks as her realised that this was where she would die; in the hands of her masochistic boyfriend. Her world faded to black slowly as he punched her in the eye, trying to get her to stop moving. Lights dotted the back of her eyes, her head lolling to one side as she succumbed to death.

"Quit your fucking thrashing you stupid bitch," He growled as the knife slashed her legs, his request falling on deaf ears, quick flicks of the wrist had him penetrated the supple flesh of her body; the blade scraping against bone as he cut out chunks from her.

His maniacal laughter echoing throughout the empty house as he continued to mutilate her dead body.

* * *

An hour later and he managed to gather up her meat into individual plastic bags - some were sitting in the freezer whilst some of her flesh was currently cooked and tossed in the stirfry, replacing the chicken. Johnny had burnt the bloody sheets in the roaring fire which overlooked the living room. Scented candles had been strategically placed throughout the house to mask the arousing scent of blood, incense was also lit for good measure.

He was dressed to the nines, waltzing around the kitchen, preparing, tasting and getting everything ready for Matt, Zacky, Jimmy, Brian and Rachel to come over. The clock that was hanging precariously above the stove let him knew that there was only a mere five minutes to have it all cooked and sat on the table waiting for them to arrive.

And, shortly, everyone was seated, waiting for Johnny to pour them all glasses of wine. Chatter had pierced the unusual silence, each member of his close group of friends all looking as elegant as he was.

"Where's Bridget, Christ?" Brian asked, his hand wrapped around his glass, smiling up at the younger man once it was full to the brim of the alcohol.

"She wasn't feeling too well so she's sleeping it off," He replied, hating that he had to outright lie to the guitarist. But the answer placated him, so Johnny was happy. He moved off to the kitchen to bring his guests their food, knowing full well that pieces of Bridget were scattered amongst the rice and vegetables.

"That's a shame, I wanted to show her my engagement ring," Rachel sighed, her cherry red lips had formed into a pout. Johnny sent her an apologetic smile, saying his congrats as he sat down.  
His brown eyes watching as his friend's all picked up their forks and dig in. Johnny's smirk hidden by his glass as he watched them simultaneously spit it back out. Disgust evident on their faces as they tried to get rid of the god-awful taste which had assaulted their taste-buds.

"What the fuck did you put in this!?" Matt hissed, his eyes wide as he tried to mask the taste with wine. "It smells like someone has died, Johnny."

"Yeah, what the actual fucking fuck?" Jimmy pipped up, his eyebrow raised in silent question.

"It's my own recipe, ass-hats. I call it... Stirfry Ala Bridgét." Johnny chuckled, scooping up a forkful and placing it into his mouth.

Brian smirked whilst shaking his head, "How sweet, you named food after your girlfriend." Johnny just rolled his eyes and continued eating, his gaze firmly on the purple-haired woman in front of him. She looked down-right disgusted, shocked and fearful all in one.

"Bridget isn't in her room... Nor did Johnny name this after her... She's cut up through it."


End file.
